


don't play games with my affection

by lovelisles



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018), Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/F, a little angsty, as per usual with these two, but also fluffy, they really don't know how to deal with their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelisles/pseuds/lovelisles
Summary: “We were never an item, I get that. You were never...mine.” Lou stares at her, holding her gaze, her own eyes too watery for her liking.“Lou, I-”“But then why the fuck do I feelguiltyfor having slept with other women while you were in jail for five years?”





	1. i'm yours

**Author's Note:**

> hi, again! these two wouldn't leave my head so i decided to give them another shot. hope you like it. i think i'm probably writing a second chapter to this featuring a jealous debbie running into one of lou's one night stands. we'll see.

“So… any new women in your life?”

The question comes out so casually through Debbie’s carefully put-together façade, that it catches Lou off guard and she nearly chokes on her food. It’s Debbie’s first night of freedom, and the first quiet, peaceful moment they’ve shared since their reunion. Well, peaceful wouldn’t be the word Lou would choose to describe it now that Debbie had brought up that particular topic of conversation and filled the room with tension.

The problem is what Debbie isn’t saying. The way she’s avoiding direct eye contact and choosing instead to examine her plate of spicy tuna rolls with extreme interest gives her away in no time. “ _What becomes of us now_?”

When Debbie had sent her a text message out of the blue, after five years of little to no contact, Lou had replied without hesitation. When she had tempted Lou with a new heist, it hadn’t needed much convincing to get her on board — partly because she longed for some thrill in her life, but mostly because she simply couldn’t say no to Debbie. But this? This was territory she thought they were still miles away from. Apparently not.

“Why, Deb, are there any new women in _your_ life?”, Lou replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Nah, oddly enough there are not as many potential sexual partners in prison as one might think.” Debbie bites back, matching Lou’s wits. God, she missed their banter.

“Well, someone call the _Orange Is The New Black_ writers and tell them they have it all wrong.”

The reference is lost on Debbie, who frowns. “Orange is the new what?”

Lou dismisses her with a wave, making her way to the kitchen in an effortless attempt to avoid the conversation. She grabs another beer, gesturing to the bottle, silently offering it to Debbie. She shakes her head no and raises her glass of wine instead, prompting an eye roll from Lou which makes her chuckle. _Everyone knows beer is the superior drink_ , she always says. Used to say, Debbie reminds herself. She really didn’t know anymore.

“Anyway…”, Debbie brings them back to the previous conversation. “You never answered my question.”

“No.”

Lou avoids her gaze at all costs, looking for a bottle opener. When she can’t find one, she opts to remove the cap on the bottle with her own arm. She nearly bruises herself in the process, but manages to do it swiftly. Debbie finds it kind of hot.

“ _No_ , you didn’t answer, or _no_ , you’re not seeing anyone?”

Debbie can feel herself being insistent and maybe even a bit unpleasant, senses her façade slowly slipping away from her voice even if the expression on her face fights to remain steady.

“No to both.”

Debbie’s breath comes out a bit more relieved, but she still senses there’s something Lou isn’t telling her. She raises an eyebrow, cocking her head at the other woman, silently urging her to continue speaking.

“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated right now?”, Lou asks, moving from her place against the refrigerator to anxiously pace around the apartment.

“You’re not being interrogated, I just asked you a question.”, Debbie replies, her tone even and calm.

“Well, that’s how interrogations begin.”, Lou spits back, the anger seeping through her words taking Debbie aback.

“Lou, calm do-”

“No!”, she interrupts her, sarcastic laughter escaping her despite herself. “No, you don’t get to ask me to calm down. You don’t get to pretend you didn’t sleep with a jerk that got you arrested, be gone for five years and then come back all flirty and pretend that nothing ever happened.”

Her words feel like a punch to Debbie’s gut. She really thought she could Ocean her way out of it. “ _Ignore the elephant in the room and he’ll go away eventually_ ”, Danny used to say — right before he and Tess got divorced, that is. Boy, he was great at being a con man but his romantic advices really did suck.

“Lou...”

“No, honestly, I need to speak. Let me speak.”, Lou pleads, less angry than before but visibly more anxious. Debbie nods quietly.

“You left me.”

“I went to _jail_!”

“ _Before that_ , Deborah.”

Oh. Of course. It’s about _that_.

“I was missing a partner for five years. You took that from me.” she breaks eye contact, taking a long sip from her beer and sitting on the far end of the couch. “ _God_ , I wish I hated you.”, she whispers.

Debbie feels her upper lip quivering, but bites back her tears. This isn’t about her or her feelings.

“We were never an item, I get that. You were never... _mine_.” Lou stares at her again, holding her gaze, her own eyes too watery for her liking.

“Lou, I-”

“But then why the fuck do I feel _guilty_ for having slept with other women while you were in jail for five years?”, she interrupts Debbie before she gets a chance to speak because she _needed_ to get it out of her system. She’s practically laughing at herself, but her eyes are getting progressively more misty.

_Oh, Lou._

Debbie’s heart shatters to pieces, and she desperately needs to touch Lou. Not wanting to overstep her boundaries, she stands up from the couch and takes a tentative step. When Lou doesn’t protest, choosing to look up and examine the ceiling instead, Debbie makes her way to her. She places her knees on either side of Lou, straddling her partner. Lou’s hands come to rest on her waist as if on instinct, and she lifts her hand up to caress Lou’s face, prompting her eyes to close. A single tear makes its way down her cheek and Debbie’s thumb brushes it away.

“Lou, baby, look at me.” she hooks a finger underneath Lou’s jaw and lifts her chin up, prompting their eyes to meet. The pet name eases its way past her lips before she can stop herself, but she feels the need to use it again. “Baby, I don’t care.”

And then something unusual happens. Lou starts to cry. It’s soft and soundless, but Debbie can count the amount of times she’s seen Lou cry on one hand and wow, Debbie doesn’t think she’s ever felt this guilty in her life, so she crashes their lips together because she needs to make it stop.

“I’m sorry.”, she whispers against Lou’s lips. “I’m so sorry.”

Lou deepens the kiss, finally wrapping her arms around Debbie and pushing their bodies flush against each other. One of Debbie’s hands fists Lou’s hair, bringing their mouths closer together, and the other comes to grip at the fabric of her robe. _God_ , she’s missed this.

Debbie breathes a sigh of relief, wrapping her legs around Lou’s torso, needing to be as close to her as possible. She knows there’s much that was left unsaid, several issues they still need to talk about, but right now all she cares about is the taste of Lou’s mouth invading her senses.

She pulls back to press a series of kisses down her neck, punctuating each one with a whisper. “ _I’m yours_ ”.

Lou’s tugs at the collar of Debbie’s shirt as she undoes the buttons quickly, accidentally ripping one or two in the process. God, she is beautiful. Once the shirt is off, Lou shifts her arms to hook them under Debbie’s thighs, standing up and wrapping her legs around her waist. Debbie lets out a small moan at the action as Lou carries her to her bedroom.

They quietly make their way up the stairs too focused on the feeling of their bodies pressed together and on rediscovering the taste of each other’s lips to talk.

Once they reach the bedroom, Lou softly lets go of Debbie, placing her gently on the mattress and crawling her way up her body. They take a moment to just stare at each other, every word unsaid lingering between them. Lou always thought their reunion would be messy. She expected sweat, and biting, and passion. She didn’t expect it to be _tender_. Not yet, anyway.

“Forgive me?”, Debbie whispers, her voice raw and faltering and her eyes shining with unshed tears. She would _not_ cry.

Lou presses another kiss to Debbie’s mouth, sweet and soft this time.

“Baby, I already did.”


	2. mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there we go, people, the much anticipated jealous version of debbie. i hope it meets your expectations! 
> 
> thank you for the love! if anyone has any more ideas and wants to send them my way, i'd really love it! i'm currently obsessed with these idiots and just out of a pretty long writers block. :)

They’re simultaneously infiltrating a cocktail party and staking out a fancy hotel when Lou sees her. She’s around mid-way through her twenties, her black tresses a bit shorter than when they met. She’s smiling politely at a couple who’s just checking-in. Lou recognizes the girl immediately.

“ _Great_.” she thinks to herself. “ _This is simultaneously gonna turn into a fight and ruin the job._ ”

Debbie had come up with the plan roughly about six months after the Met Gala. It’s not that they needed the money, of course. Together they had enough cash to buy a small country. No, Debbie just wanted the thrill of it. And what better way to do it than to break into the hotel room of a big shot right wing politician and steal a few thousand dollars directly from his vault?

As it turns out, the bastard was not only corrupt but also cheating scum, so it wouldn’t be too hard for Debbie — or Elsa, or Helena, or whatever name she chose as her alias, Lou couldn’t keep track of them anymore at this point — to seduce him.

Debbie had begun preparations two weeks ago, when she came to check out the hotel by herself — in character, of course. Had it not been for the whole family business thing, she probably would’ve ended up in drama school. The woman was a damn good actress, and in just under an hour she’d managed to find out which room he usually stayed in and when he was scheduled to arrive.

Lou was in charge of stealing the key to the room next to his, to which Debbie would lure him. Her plan was to handcuff him to the bed — a move she had clearly taken from Daphne’s playbook —, take _his_ key and then make her way to his room, stealing the money from the vault which Nine Ball would open by hacking into the company’s security system. It was supposedly airtight.

It was Lou’s job to pretend to be a clueless australian tourist looking for directions to the Empire State, which she would get by flirting with — and thus, distracting — the receptionist, who, Debbie had assured her, was _definitely_ gay. _“Trust me, I can tell by the way she wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage.”_

As it turns out, she could’ve told Debbie that herself because roughly three years ago, the very same girl had been pressed against the wall of her nightclub, alternating between panting and moaning out Lou’s name while she worked her fingers under her skirt. _Fuck_.

“ _Debbie is gonna be pissed._ ”, Lou thinks to herself as she calls the woman who’s halfway across the room, attempting to flirt with an old man who looks like he was born during the Jurassic period for information.

She watches as a redheaded version of Debbie interrupts her conversation to answer the phone, frowning for a moment upon looking at the caller ID and excusing herself. She makes her way to the corner of the room in order to talk without being overheard.

“What are you doing?”, she asks while feigning a smile, the annoyance already seeping its way into her voice. Great.

“Houston, we have a problem…”, Lou starts, and watches as Debbie’s expression shifts from slightly annoyed to alarmed.

“What’s wrong?”, she asks, her flight instincts kicking in, and Lou immediately realizes this wasn’t a good approach.

“Nothing’s wrong.”, she assures her, Debbie getting visibly more confused. “But we need to call off the job.”

“Wait, _what_?”, Debbie’s voice comes out louder than it should have, attracting a few unwanted looks, and she mentally curses the spontaneous reaction. She collects herself before calmly asking, “Why?”

Lou takes a deep breath.

“You know the gay receptionist who was ‘ _definitely_ staring at your cleavage’?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I _definitely_ slept with her.”

Lou observes the moment in which Debbie’s eyes go wide, watches as anger, jealousy and frustration all make their way through her face in a heartbeat. Then, suddenly, something curious happens. Amusement settles onto Debbie’s expression, and Lou really doesn’t see it coming when her partner lets out a full blown _laugh_ — her cover be damned, the heist was ruined anyway.

_What the fuck?_

Debbie’s eyes scan the place and finally find Lou’s in the middle of the crowd.

“Oh my God, Louise, she’s a _teenager_.”

Lou scoffs, because it’s just like Debbie to play this off as hilarious and cover up whatever it is she’s really feeling. For whatever reason — probably in an effort to not further aggravate the situation — Lou plays along.

“She’s not a _teenager_ , she’s like, twenty seven.” Lou corrects her, rolling her eyes. “I think. She might be twenty six.”

“And how long ago was this?”, Debbie asks, an infuriating smirk not leaving her lips.

“About three years ago?”, Lou pretends to think about it, even though she knows.

“So she would have been…”, Debbie doesn’t miss a beat, one eyebrow raised and _God,_ Lou wants to kiss that smirk right off her face.

“... twenty three.”

“I rest my case, you slept with a teenager.”

“Ugh, don’t make it sound so gross.”

“Was it?”, Debbie asks while walking the distance between her and Lou.

“Was it what?”

“Gross.”

“What? No!”

“Then how was it?”, she asks, narrowing her eyes at her partner, coming to stand by her side and ending their call.

Great. A trick question. Debbie’s true colors were finally starting to show.

“I don’t know.”, she replies to Debbie’s face. “It was okay.”

“Oh, okay? Was she that bad?”

“What? No, she wasn’t _bad_.”

“So she was good?”

“For Christ's sake, Debbie, stop it.”

“What? This hook up of yours just cost me fifty grand, I wanna know more about it. Was it worth it?”

“Deborah...”, Lou replies dryly. She’s getting annoyed at this point.

“What? Answer my question. How was Dora The Explorer in bed?”, she asks, making fun of the young girl’s helmet haircut. “Was she as thorough then about finding her treasure?”

“Stop!”, Lou huffs out with no humour in her voice, and the strong tone alarms Debbie. “If you must know, it wasn't on a bed, it was against the wall of the nightclub. It was quick and pleasant, I was drunk and she cried after we were done. Is that enough information for you?”

“She _cried_?”

Debbie’s expression remains neutral until she can no longer control the laughter bubbling up inside her.

“Oh my God, you’re insufferable.”, Lou complains, but can’t help but join in with a chuckle which quickly turns into full blown laughter, and soon Debbie’s leaning against her for support as both of them try to regain some seriousness.

“Come on, baby, let’s go home.”, Lou whispers.

“Okay. I can’t wait to take this ridiculous wig off.”

“God, me neither, it’s impossible to take you seriously like this.”

“Shut up, you slept with a child.”

“Oh, she’s been downgraded to child now?”

Debbie smiles and Lou scoffs, grabbing Debbie by the hand as they exit the hotel. She’s certain she’s never gonna hear the end of this.

The cab ride back to the loft is quiet. Lou glances at Debbie every now and then, when she knows she’s not looking, and curiously studies her face for different emotions.

The atmosphere gains seriousness, and Lou gets progressively more worried that once they arrive home, Debbie will put her walls up and ignore the subject altogether, dealing with her feelings all on her own instead of having a conversation.

The first thing Debbie does when they get to the apartment is get rid of her wig, throwing it in the general direction of the couch. “Thank God.”, she mutters under her breath as she brushes her brown waves with her fingers. _God, she’s beautiful._

“Hey”, Lou whispers, catching her attention. She gestures with her head for Debbie to come closer, and she does, slowly. Lou carefully wraps her arms around Debbie’s waist, and the other woman’s hands come to rest on her neck. Lou lets out a sigh of relief, nudging Debbie’s nose with her own and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She attempts to pull away, but Debbie brings their mouths together again and deepens it. Her hands travel from Lou’s neck to her back to every inch of her body, and a soft moan escapes her mouth.

“Take me to bed.”, Lou pleads against her lips and Debbie breaks their kiss.

“No.”, she replies dryly, confusing her partner.

“No?”

Debbie shakes her head and bites her bottom lip, her eyes dead serious as she slams Lou against the wall, eliciting a gasp. She kisses her furiously then, already getting rid of every piece of fabric she can get her hands on. Lou’s knowing laugh is interrupted by a moan when one of Debbie’s hand finds her breast, kneading it gently.

“Baby, you don’t have t-”

“Shut up.”, Debbie commands with determination and Lou nods, mutters a breathless “okay”, taking in the new, possessive side of her lover. She kind of loves it.

Debbie’s mouth starts to make its way down her neck, kissing her in a way that is sure to leave marks in the morning. Then she’s on her knees, pressing open mouthed kisses to her stomach, grinning as she elicits a moan from her, and _fuck_ , nothing will ever compare to this. She looks up at Lou, who’s staring at her in awe through hazy eyes.

"Mine”, Debbie growls, just once.

Lou gives her an almost imperceptible nod and watches as her gaze softens a little. Only a little.

“Yours.”


End file.
